


Ineffable Idiots: Dinning at the Ritz

by Kaz3313



Series: Ineffable Idiots [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crack Relationships, Dialogue Heavy, Dining at the Ritz (Good Omens), M/M, Memes, Multi, Not Serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 19:36:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21213950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaz3313/pseuds/Kaz3313
Summary: It's a bit chaotic at the Ritz but what do you expect with a Bastard Angel, a Not-Very-Nice-Demon-Nice-is-a-four-letter-word-how-dare-you-insuiate-I-may-be-good, the Fucking Archangel, and Lord of the Flies (not be mixed up with Lord of the Files).





	Ineffable Idiots: Dinning at the Ritz

**Author's Note:**

> Very Silly fic! Also going to be a series if anyone else falls in love with this rarepair/crack ship 😊 Writing the next part (that has a slightly more serious element but will have about the same goofy theme as this one)! All comments and Kudos are appreciated ❤
> 
> (Ps: trying to fix the summery as it is oddly spaced. Looks fine on my editing end but horrid otherwise. Very sorry for that!)

Ah, The Ritz. A lovely place, where Angel would enjoy a meal while Crowley enjoyed the sight. Aziraphale gave a little 'MmM,'of delight as he popped the last piece of food into his mouth. 

"Angel, would you like me to order you some dessert?" Crowley asked continuing to gaze.

"Why, yes, that would be lovely," Azriaphale replied and Crowley thought of how nothing could ruin the mood.

That was, nothing besides their other partners at the table. 

"Why don't you ever ask if I want dessert?" Gabriel, the Archangel whom less then a decade ago was known as 'Aziraphale's halfwit boss who also tried to kill us at least once' but now was better referred to as 'Gabe our halfwit partner who also tried to kill us at least once', whined.

"Because you don't like food. You hate it," Crowley stated resisting rubbing his temples.

"But you never ask," Gabe pouted like a kid who asked for a lollipop, got a lollipop, and then was sad they didn't get a slurpee instead. 

"Would you like me to order some dessert for you?" Crowley let out a deep sigh but found it easier just to cave in now then have this go on for a couple hours.

"No! Why would I want to sully my celestial being with gross food matter? That's disgusting," Gabriel exclaimed and Crowley swore he was going to flip this table if he heard another complaint.

"What do you want from me? Why are you so difficult?" Crowely asked rhetorically waving his hands around like an overdramatic Shakespearean actor (Aziraphale would argue that over dramatic and Shakespearean actor would be redundant but then Crowley would remind him of all the terrible Shakspearean actors. Then Aziraphale would say those don't count and then Crowley would insist they would and- Well that's a disagreement for another day)

"This is why I don't talk to him," Beelzebub said before, without hesitation, unscrewed the top and downed an entire shaker of salt.

"Do you have to steal all the condiments? I would like some too" Aziraphale said even though he was done with his food and dessert Crowley would order him didn't need any salt (and he also already had plenty of salt).

"You ordered your food and I ordered mine," Beelzebub crosses their arms and narrows their eyes.

"You didn't order anything! You just took the condiments off the table," Aziraphale insisted. Crowley made a small hum that might mean to some 'oh look at my lovely partners were having a fun light hearted conversation' but actually meant 'I'm at my fucking limit I swear to someone if another (Beelzebub was known to throw things at anyone within distance) fight breaks out I will flip this table and then no more Ritz for this century'.

"So, itzz that an izzue?!"

"When the condiments are for everyone to share, yes!"

"Two out of the four of us aren't eating!" Beelzebub smacked the table and Crowley winced at the possibility of it breaking. 

"And one out of the four of us are not drinking either," Somewhere in Gabriel's mind had told him to add that obvious and unnecessary fact. "And three out of four are drinking. And one out of four has sunglasses. Two of us are angels-"

"Thizzz is not a counting game!" Beelzebub interrupted shouting. The waitresses and waiters at the Ritz paid no mind as they were used to this whole ordeal. 

"You started it," Gabriel pointed out (he even pointed his finger at them because it would make his point extra pointy. Or something like that)

"I zzwear to zzatan you are the most annoying angel in the univerzze!" Crowley at this time had enough of everyone, turned into a snake, and was starting to head to the Bently. 

"Look what you- Oh my goodness! Now there's going to be mass hysteria because a snake is "loose" in London," Aziraphale held his head in his hands. He expected patrons of the Ritz would start shouting in approximately two minutes. He just hoped no would trample the snake in the process.

"That remindzz me. I should juzzt turn into a fly,"

"No. Last time you did that you dove into someone's soup," Gabriel reminded.

"Lozzt in the zzauce," 

"No, drowned in the sauce," He corrected.

"It was soup, not sauce," Aziraphale doubly corrected.

At getting screamed at by a very startled cook Crowley had returned less snakey and more pouty. He sat back down and eased into the discussion at hand. 

The conversation continued and was about whether the word "sauce" could be inserted instead of broth. Aziraphale had explained multiple times that it was not a synonym and had even gotten Beelzebub on his side (All it took was "Do you REALLY think Gabriel knows the English Language, actually any language, better than me?"). However since Crowley understood this was based on a fairly obscure meme he'd sided with Gabriel on the pretense it was funny. 

"Since you two are being so willfully ignorant. I suggest we truce," Aziraphale said fixing his bowtie and finishing his dessert. "That way we can have a peaceful walk back to the bookshop,". 

Gabriel, though with his arms crossed, nodded in a way that suggested he still believed he was in the right and he'd also won this "battle".

"Yeah, sauce, soup, brothel, whatever we were discussing let's end that but were walking to the bookshop?" Crowley asked his eyes peered slightly from his glasses. 

"Well, yes," Aziraphale stater.

"But the Bently?" Crowley reminded.

"We just had a big meal-"

"You drive like a serial killer is constantly chasing you," Beelzebub interrupted.

"More like an escaped homicidal convict then a serial killer," Gabriel said.

"Is there a difference?" Crowley asked sitting back in his chair; a puzzled look as he pondered his own question.

"No," Azriaphale shook his head.

"Um, one is clearly more dangerous," Gabriel insisted. 

"Yeah, serial killer," Beelzebub added on. 

"No; the homicidal convict escaped the prison they were in, proving they have more skills than the other," 

"Yeah but they got caught in the first place. What a loser,"

"They're not a loser! They are a very frightening person who is skilled and-"

"If they were so skilled why'd they end up in jail? Hmmm? Checkmate Gabey,"

This would've continued if not for the table being flipped over. Who flipped the table? Well, that's another debate waiting to happen.


End file.
